


More Than a Duty

by i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: AU, Dadgil, F/M, Vergil works with Dante, and then they find Nero, dante being the best uncle, guess that means something changed in dmc3, lady and dante help some, mostly vergil trying to be a dad and learning from his kiddo, soft, vergil has doubts but he's trying his best, we shall see soon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25299448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate/pseuds/i_write_fanfics_to_procrastinate
Summary: AU: Vergil and Dante find two-year-old Nero, and bring him home. Nero struggles to adjust, and Vergil struggles with the ups and downs of being a new father, and accepting that it's not just a sense of duty that makes him want nothing more than to keep Nero safe.
Relationships: Lady/Vergil (Devil May Cry)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 63





	1. To Protect Him

Lady leaned back against Dante’s desk, tossing aside a magazine as she heard a car door slam just beyond the door. _Finally._ It had been way too long since they had left. Vergil had told her they were going to get information. Dante had insisted that they wouldn’t be long. Two weeks later she finally got word that they were on their way home.

She could hear arguing, and then footsteps up the front stairs, before the door was unlocked and Dante stepped in, red coat trailing behind him. The moment he set eyes on her he let out a deep sigh. “Lady. How the hell did you get in?”

“Same way I always do,” She smirked, putting her hands on her hips. “I let myself in. Where’s Vergil?”

Dante waved his hand. “Outside. Trying to figure out how to get the baby out of the car seat.”

Lady blinked, and then crossed her arms. “Baby?” She didn’t wait for a response, crossing the room and out the front door and to where Dante’s car was parked. Vergil was leaning over the back seat. Though she could only see his back she could tell he was bristling with irritation. His coat had been tossed over the door of the front seat.

“Just…” he was mumbling to himself, or to the little passenger. Despite having no idea who the baby was, Lady couldn’t help but smile. She put her hand on her hip.

“Hey, hot stuff.” She grinned. Vergil stood up straight, turning towards her quickly, his hair a mess, blue eyes wide.

“Lady,” he almost looked relieved.

“Did you miss me?” Lady asked, sauntering over to him, pressing a hand against his chest. His expression hardly changed, but she could see desire in his eyes. “Kiss me, Vergil.”

He leaned over and pressed a tender kiss to her lips, cupping her cheek. The sound of a fussing toddler pulled her away from him. She glanced over his shoulder to see the toddler in the car seat Vergil had been struggling with. The little boy must have been around two. Lady knew _immediately_ that he was related to the brothers she knew so well. He wore what looked like a handknit blue sweater, and hand-me-down shoes. His white hair was a mess, and there were tears welling up in his pale blue eyes.

Lady pulled away from Vergil, leaning over and carefully unbuckling the child-locked buckles, pulling the little boy from the restraints. “Hey,” she smiled, ruffling his white hair. “Feel better now…?” She glanced over at Vergil, waiting for a name.

“Nero,” Vergil whispered, grabbing his coat.

“Nero? You feel better?” She offered the little boy a smile. He didn’t seem like he was doing better. He was quiet, distant. Almost like he was dazed, or terrified, or both. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” Vergil followed them back into the shop silently. Dante was laying out across the sofa, magazine on his face. Still, Nero said nothing, little chubby hand at last grasping Lady’s shirt. She turned towards Vergil.

“How old is he?”

“Well…” Vergil hesitated. Dante let out a dramatic sigh.

“The orphanage wasn’t sure how old he was but _somehow_ Vergil knew almost _exactly_.”

Vergil offered his brother a disdainful glance and turned back to Lady. “I believe he would be around two…”

Lady frowned, glancing down at Nero in her arms once more. “Two huh? That’s a big number, little guy.” She glanced up at Vergil, “Has he said anything at all?”

Vergil slowly shook his head. “No.”

“Toddlers this age are usually talking by now…” Lady frowned. “Even just a few words. Nero,” Lady smiled, waving at Vergil, “Can you say hi? Wave to daddy.” Vergil blinked, eyes widening as if it was only just hitting him who this boy was to him. He reached out, gently brushing his hand through Nero’s pale hair.

His brow furrowed as if just remembering, “He hasn’t eaten either.”

“What?” Lady gasped. “Lucky for Little Man, I _just_ happened to get some strawberries…”

The magazine fell from Dante’s face as he sat up, “Some what?”

“They’re not for you anymore,” Lady said firmly, snatching the strawberries off the edge of Dante’s desk. And then crossing back over to Vergil. “Why don’t you go to daddy so I can cut these up for you, Nero?” Nero didn’t move so Vergil awkwardly pulled his son into his arms.

“Lady,” he said, making her pause. “Thank you.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, “I should have known both of you would be useless when it comes to babies… really though, Vergil, I’m happy to help.”

They didn’t have a highchair. So Vergil sat on the floor with Nero in his lap, holding a paper plate with sliced strawberries. The little boy was hesitant at first, but with Lady’s prompting he silently began to eat.

They were quiet for a long time, before Lady let out a sigh. “How did you find him, Vergil?”

“It was… an accident,” Vergil replied. He looked comfortable, leaning against the brick wall of the shop with his son in his arms. “We just happened to be passing by the orphanage yard to the library,” he mused. “Dante, I suppose, saw him… and knew instantly…”

“Well, he _does_ look a lot like both of you,” Lady laughed. Nero was getting strawberry juice all over his cheeks.

“We took so long because of all the formalities of course.” Vergil sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. “He _is_ my son, Lady.”

“I know,” Lady said, her heart softening as she looked between the two of them.

“I know what you must be thinking—”

“I’m not thinking anything, Vergil,” she whispered, “You said he’s two. That means he was _born_ a whole year _before_ we got together. You don’t owe me any explanation.”

Vergil frowned, glancing down at his son as Nero finished the last of the strawberries Lady had cut up for him. “I want to raise him properly. I _owe_ him that much.” He glanced over to where Dante was still spread out across the couch, and offered his brother a glare. “Dante tried to feed him _pizza_ on the way home.”

Lady laughed, “Nero could probably handle a couple bites of pizza, Vergil.”

“I knew it!” Dante sat up, giving his brother a glare. “I _told_ you.” 

“Well,” Lady said, crossing her arms. “If we’re going to do this, we need to go to the store to get a few things.”

“We?” Vergil asked, almost as if he didn’t dare believe it, but there was hope in his eyes.

“You think I’d leave you to do this alone?” Lady frowned, “Not on your life. After all, they say it takes a village. Now, come on. We can take your car, right Dante?”

“No way.”

Lady rolled her eyes, “We’ll fill the gas tank.”

Dante fished the keys out of his pocket and tossed them into Lady’s hands.

“Back into the car seat?” Vergil groaned.

“Well… only if Uncle Dante doesn’t want to babysit for a little bit.”

Dante glanced up, “I guess if you two aren’t gone for long.”

“Nero’s not talking at all,” Lady said, “If we take him with us it might be just too overwhelming. We want him to get used to us and get used to this place.” She smiled a little, reaching out to ruffle Nero’s hair, “Right, little guy?”

* * *

They spent the afternoon putting together the toddler bed, and the highchair, then cleaning out a drawer of Vergil’s dresser just for Nero’s new clothes. Little bear-print pajamas, a brand new coat, warm sweaters, little socks… all stashed away in the bottom drawer of Vergil’s dresser. Lady sighed once they were finally done, “You’re going to be a good dad, Vergil, letting him stay this close to you while he adjusts.” She gestured to where the toddler bed was in the corner of the room.

Vergil glanced back to her, reaching out to take her hand. “I owe you my thanks,” he said, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She shook her head with a soft laugh. It was just hitting her that it had been two weeks since she’d last held him. She remembered the night before he left, tangled in bed at her apartment. She had rested her head against his chest, listening to the comforting beat of his heart, feeling the warmth of him against her. Home. _“I love you, Vergil.”_

Now, sitting on the floor of his bedroom she moved over to him, straddling him and sitting in his lap. “I _missed_ you,” she breathed. Vergil smiled. Such a rare thing, it made her heart skip a beat, she leaned close and kissed him. His hand gripped her hip and she tangled her fingers in his hair. He never said so in words, but she could tell by the way he held onto her hip that he was needy. She pulled gently on his lower lip as she pulled away, and then pressed kisses to his jaw and down his neck.

“Hey!” Dante’s voice from downstairs. Vergil moaned, dropping his head back against his bed. “I think Nero’s wondering… uhh… what’s for dinner.”

“Sure, _Nero_ is,” Lady rolled her eyes. “He’s right though. We should get something ready for Nero.”

“Wait,” Vergil gently pulled on her hip as she moved to stand. “Kiss me again,” he demanded. 

“Hmm…” She shifted, getting more comfortable on his lap, “Ask nicely.” He narrowed his eyes, and Lady laughed, “What? You can’t say please?”

He must have really missed her, because he didn’t protest like he usually did, didn’t try to _steal_ the kiss or seize control. His free hand gripped her thigh _tight_ and he whispered, “Please.” His voice hoarse, pleading.

“Since you asked so nicely,” Lady murmured, closing the distance between them and pressing another kiss to his mouth. His hand warm on her thigh. He had left bruises before, with his grip. Now his hand left her thigh, reaching up to cup her cheek, deepening the kiss.

Lady pulled away gently, brushing her fingers through his messy hair. “I love you.”

His cheeks flushed, eyes lidded. “I… love you too.” Another rarity. It made her heart warm.

“Come on, let’s make dinner.”

* * *

Vergil gently set his son down in the highchair he and Lady had assembled earlier. The boy seemed so bewildered, and scared. _This whole thing is bewildering to me as well._ He frowned. Lady had said that babies Nero’s age should be talking by now, so why hadn’t Nero said anything yet? _It’s perfectly alright, Vergil._ He told himself. _He’ll talk when he’s ready._ Why was it, though he had only just met this child ten days ago, that he already felt the strongest need to protect him—to make sure he was happy?

He had decided on the way home that it was because he _owed_ the baby something. Because of Vergil, Nero was born, and thrown into this world… abandoned at the orphanage after his mother’s… _mysterious_ death. Too long Vergil had left him to the dogs, to fate, to the darkness of the world. It was only natural he do his duty—give him the best life he could. _Duty. Yes. That’s it._ The need to care for this child, that was all it was. A sense of duty.

But now… after today… he wondered if there was something more.

“Vergil, why don’t we cook a vegetable to go with this. I think when we were at the store we got frozen peas and some canned green beans. Either one will work.” Lady said, stirring the meatballs she had thrown in a pan on the stove.

Dante was eating the leftover strawberries, he held one out to Nero, “Hey, kid, you want one?” He grinned. It took Nero a moment to focus on the red berry his uncle was holding out to him, but he didn’t reach for it. “It’s okay,” Dante prompted, “I know you like strawberries. You can have this one.”

“Don’t give him that,” Vergil groaned.

“Why not?” Dante huffed.

“You’ll spoil his dinner.”

Lady laughed, “You already _sound_ like a dad.”

“Nero, your dad is _boring_ ,” Dante said, popping the strawberry into his mouth.

“Ignore him.” Vergil said to his son. “Now, would you prefer green beans or peas with your meatballs?”

“Neither,” Dante said.

“I wasn’t talking to _you_ ,” Vergil replied.

Lady glanced over her shoulder. “Vergil, you can’t ask a two-year-old questions like that.”

He _had_ been hoping that a simple question of preference, such as this one, would entice his son to speak. But Nero just stared up at him, big blue eyes wide as if he were dazed.

“That’s alright,” Vergil sighed, “I’ll just make the peas.”

* * *

The evening concluded with a short bath, since somehow Nero managed to cover himself in the food they had served him for dinner. Lady had tried to get Nero to play in the water to no avail, which made Vergil even more worried. If Lady said it was normal, then she was probably right. _“It’ll take some time for him to warm up to it all.”_ She had said. In truth, Vergil had no idea how babies were _supposed_ to act, so he was glad Lady was there. Even though it made him more and more worried that Nero didn’t seem to be doing normal baby things.

They pulled him out of the tub and wrapped him in a towel before Vergil realized that he had forgotten to grab pajamas from the bottom drawer of his dresser and hurriedly passed the dripping baby into Lady’s arms before rushing across the hall to retrieve them.

When he returned, bear-print pajamas in hand, it was to Lady laughing. She had dried off Nero, but he was still wrapped in the towel to keep warm, and had set him on the counter in front of the mirror, his back against her, and she was playing with his hair. She brushed her fingers through it, watching him in the mirror, and then burst into laughter again as his damp hair stuck brushed back—just like Vergil’s.

“He looks just like you!” She laughed, seeing him arrive behind her through the mirror. She leaned over, pointing in the mirror. “Look, Nero. You look like your dad.” Nero was staring into the mirror as if it was the strangest thing he had ever seen, big blue eyes wide. Vergil was about to protest, and insist they get him dressed when Nero reached out to touch the glass, pressing his hand against it. It was the first time Vergil had seen him interact with something they pointed out to him, and he sucked in a breath.

“Yeah,” Lady murmured. “That’s your reflection.”

The toddler glanced between his father and his father’s reflection and then a laugh bubbled up in his throat. And Nero _smiled_. Vergil melted, Nero’s giggling laugh—though short-lived—was the warmest thing he had ever heard.

“Did you hear that?” Lady beamed, “Someone’s finally warming up to us.” She pressed a kiss to the top of Nero’s head.

“Y-yes.” Vergil nodded. “We should get him dressed.” Though he loathed to admit it, he had never been as happy as he was in that moment: with Lady and seeing his son smile. _Yes._ He realized. He could deny it all he wanted, but he knew, deep down, the truth. This feeling was more than just a sense of _duty._

* * *

“He’s asleep?” Lady whispered, slipping into the room. “It didn’t take him very long. But maybe he’s tired from all the traveling.”

Vergil was sitting in the toddler bed, Nero tucked in his arms, fast asleep. “He fell asleep while I was reciting some classics,” he said, voice hushed. “I’m concerned. If I move he might wake.”

“Here, I’ll help.”

The ever so slowly shifted, laying Nero down on the little toddler mattress, and pulling the blankets up to his chin. Vergil watched his son sleep soundly for a moment, and then reached out to brush his hair away from his eyes. He was so, so little. Little chubby hands, and chubby cheeks. So innocent. _And I’ve already failed you._

“Vergil?”

He hadn’t realized, but tears had filled his eyes. He blinked them away. _Clear your head. Take a breath. Don’t—_

“It’s okay to cry.” Warm hand taking his, and he turned to face Lady. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

He shook his head, “He’s only two years old. And… I want to protect him, but I’ve already failed, Mary.”

She shook her head, “What are you talking about?”

“All this time he was in that orphanage alone—”

“Vergil, you didn’t fail him. You didn’t even know he existed. Since the moment you brought him home, you’ve been nothing but attentive. You’ve cared for him, you’ve bought him all these things, you’ve been worried about him… you already are an amazing father. You haven’t failed anyone.”

He didn’t respond, glancing over at his son—the toddler’s chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. Fast asleep.

“Stay here tonight.” Vergil whispered, clasping Lady’s hand.

She nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Alright.”

* * *

Vergil shot out of sleep to the sound of a wail, heart pounding, gasping for breath. “W-what?”

Lady stirred next to him, slowly sitting up, blinking away sleep. “Nero,” she mumbled. “It’s Nero. I’ll get him.”

She pulled herself out of bed. Vergil was frozen, staring into the inky darkness of his room. The lights of the city shone dimly through his curtains. He let out a soft breath. _That’s right._ He was a father now. _Nero._ He moved to follow Lady to the toddler’s bed, but she was already on her way back, Nero in her arms. He was still but he was sobbing, tears rolling down his chubby cheeks, eyes shut tight.

“What happened?” Vergil asked as Lady slipped back into bed, holding the toddler close.

“Maybe he had a nightmare,” she replied. Before Vergil could say anything else, Nero was reaching for him, little hands outstretched for his father, sobs still shaking his little body.

“He wants you,” Lady whispered. _He wants… me._ The thought that _anyone…_ wanted him? Lady, as her partner. Dante, as his brother. And now… this _child_ … as his father… Little hands reaching for him. Vergil pulled his son into his arms, holding him close. _This time I’ll protect you._ He wasn’t ever going to let Nero down again—he couldn’t. That was his promise. Nero sobbed against his shirt, his tiny body trembling with each breath. _It must have been an awful dream._

“I’ll go heat up some milk. Warm milk might help calm him down.” Lady stepped away, slipping out of the room, leaving Vergil with his son.

“It was just a dream,” Vergil said, “It wasn’t real. There’s nothing to be afraid of… Nero.”

And for the first time, Vergil heard his son’s voice. Soft, trembling through his tears, “Monsters…” he whispered. “Monsters.”

The words struck Vergil’s heart like a bullet. He pulled Nero into a tighter hug. “No. There are no monsters here. This place is safe.” _I swear to you._

When Lady slipped back upstairs she glanced at the clock. Three in the morning. Dante had passed out on the couch, the lights from a car passing on the street, moving across his pale face. How he could sleep down here, Lady had no idea. She clutched the sippy cup full of warm milk and tip-toed down the hall to Vergil’s room, quietly opening the door, only to find that Vergil was laying back against the pillows, fast asleep. In his arms Nero was fast asleep against his father’s chest, face red from crying—but now he seemed at peace. She smiled, setting the cup of milk on the dresser and crossing the room to press a kiss to Vergil’s forehead, and then Nero’s head, before climbing into bed next to them both, curling up next to her boyfriend, and drifting off to sleep. 


	2. To Be a Good Father

“Dante?” Vergil trotted down the stairs. He had yanked on his bathrobe upon waking up—too hurried to get dressed. He had slept in—which was a rarity. He blamed it on Nero. His son had _not_ wanted to sleep the night before. Already, only two weeks after he had come home with them, Nero was warming up to them. He laughed more than he cried now, despite the occasional nightmare. Dante especially made him laugh. Bursting into contagious giggles at his uncle’s prompting. “Dante, where’s Nero…?” Vergil trailed off, stepping down onto the main floor of the office to see Dante sitting with Nero on the floor. A pizza box to one side of them and all the blocks they had bought the other day spread out around them.

“We’re building a city,” Dante explained. _I have_ two _sons apparently._ Vergil let out a deep sigh.

Nero blinked up at his father from where he sat on the floor, still in his pajamas. He had one of the rectangle blocks in his hand and was chewing on the corner, drool rolling down the edge of the painted wood. Vergil crouched down next to the baby, gently pulling the block out of his mouth.

“Don’t chew on that,” he said.

“Hey,” Dante said, “Maybe if you ask your dad he’ll play too.”

Nero blinked, and then held out the slobbery block to his father, “Build house.” He said firmly. Vergil wanted to say that building with blocks was so beneath him. If it had been Dante that asked, he would have said no flat out. But how could he say no to the pleading eyes of his son? Somehow Nero had stolen his heart, despite his best efforts.

“Very well,” Vergil said with a sigh, “I’ll build a house in your city.”

“A BIG house.” Nero insisted.

“Hell yeah.” Dante nodded.

“Hell… yeah.” Nero said.

Vergil let out an exasperated sigh, “Nero, don’t ever repeat anything your uncle says. He’s an imbecile.”

“Hey!” Dante gasped.

“Let me construct this house, Dante.”

Vergil set the rectangle block down as a base, and then reached for some cubes. Soon enough he had created a mansion, constructed of numerous cube blocks, and several rectangles. “Is that acceptable?” He asked Nero. The toddler nodded appreciatively.

“The stamp of approval,” Dante said.

“I’m going to get dressed.” Vergil said. As soon as he was back in his usual comfortable attire he returned to his son’s side.

“Did you have something to eat, Nero?” He asked, reaching out to ruffle his hair. The toddler shook his head, sucking on his middle and pointer fingers.

“I tried to offer him some pizza but I don’t think he was hungry first thing,” Dante shrugged.

“He didn’t accept the pizza?” Vergil blinked, glancing over at his son, a swell of something akin to pride filled him, and he smiled. “Come on, Nero. I’ll prepare you a _real_ breakfast.” He took his son’s free hand and led him towards the kitchen.

“Joke’s on you, Vergil,” Dante huffed, constructing a small house. “Pizza _is_ real.”

Vergil pulled eggs out of the fridge. “Scrambled eggs should do, you agree?” He asked the two-year-old. And then remembered what Lady had said about asking two-year-olds about food. Nero was playing with the magnets on the fridge, while Vergil cooked for the two of them. Serving up the eggs on two little plates, before lifting Nero into his highchair and sitting across from him at the table. He knew, as per usual, that this meal would end with Nero covered in eggs.

“What do you think?” Vergil asked, as his son used his hands (despite the small fork his father had offered him) to eat his breakfast. He had eggs smeared across his cheeks.

“Yummy,” He said.

Vergil paused, “…yummy. Right.” Lady had taught him _that_ one. Vergil didn’t understand why they couldn’t say normal words. So far Nero had adopted _Yummy. Wa-ee—_ for water. _Ted-ted_ —for the toy bear Lady had gotten him two days ago. When Vergil had made spaghetti three nights ago that had been a disaster. Nero had been giggling. _“Getti. Getti.”_ And then, of course, Dante was saying it that way too. _I really do have two kids._ Vergil rolled his eyes.

Though, he had to admit, that despite being completely nonsensical, there was something endearing about the way Nero said some words. He already addressed Dante as “Uncle ‘Te” (though he struggled to say the L). But… he so far had _not_ addressed Vergil by anything… The moment Vergil set Nero on the ground the kid was toddling across the hardwood to rejoin his uncle at the block city. _Maybe… he loves Dante more than me?_ The thought was like a knife to the chest. Vergil felt sick. _Dante is already better with him than I am._ He watched as they played. Dante stacking up blocks to make a skyscraper.

“Check this out, kid, the tallest building in Nero City.” Nero giggled, stacking two blocks on top of each other.

 _Maybe it’s better this way._ Vergil mused, despite the aching in his chest. _Dante would be a better father figure._ Still, something tugged at his heart. _This is_ my _son._

“Alright, kid,” Dante said, triumphantly, “We’ve used all the blocks. Now comes the best part.” Dante jumped to his feet. “We get to pretend we’re monsters and destroy the whole town! ROAR!” He kicked a building across the room. Vergil watched his son's expression change, and immediately recognized the distress in his eyes before he burst into a wail.

“Uncle ‘Te!”

“What? Don’t cry! This is the best part!”

Vergil crossed the room, “Dante, why?” He said, gesturing to the broken block building. “ _Why_?”

“ _I_ used to do it when I was a kid, I had no idea he would—”

“And did _I_ join you on those ridiculous escapades? Hard work like this should be cherished. Nero clearly understands—” Before he could finish, he was interrupted. Little hands tugging on his pants. He glanced down to see his son with puppy dog eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, pleading with him.

“Pwease _fix_ , daddy,” He said. Vergil froze, and then clutched his heart. _Daddy._ It was the first time. “Pwease!” It had been two weeks since they had returned home with him…. And Vergil’s heart was warm. He crouched down next to his son, brushing away his tears.

“It’s going to be alright. Where there’s destruction we can rebuild. We’ll fix it together.” He glanced over and Dante, offering him a glare. “Uncle Dante should get the blocks he scattered across the room.”

Dante sighed, “I suppose it’s only fair.”

Once the blocks were collected. Vergil helped Nero stack them into the form of a house again. “There, how’s that?” Vergil asked. 

Nero nodded, glancing up at his father with a bright smile. “Newo City.”

“Yes,” Vergil smiled. “A fine name.”

* * *

Nero fell asleep for his nap easily, probably due to his lack of sleep the night before. The toddler fell asleep in Vergil’s arms as he read aloud one of his favorite verses. There was a soft knock on the door and Vergil knew immediately it wasn’t Dante. Lady stepped into his room, and her expression softened the moment she saw them. “Dante said you were putting Nero down for a nap.”

“You’re home,” Vergil whispered, warmth in his heart.

“Got the job done early,” Lady smiled, crossing the room to sit next to him in bed. She pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “How were things while I was away?”

Vergil tried to hide it, but the smile tugged at the corner of his lips anyways. “Nero,” he whispered. “Nero addressed me as his father.”

“Vergil!” Lady beamed, “That’s so sweet!”

Vergil frowned, “I was worried. He seems so much more affectionate with Dante. Knew his name sooner…”

“Vergil,” Lady murmured. “Nero loves you already. And he really admires you. I’ve seen him try to mimic you. Eating the food you eat, crossing his arms the way you do, pulling his hair back. He adores you.”

Vergil blinked, arm gently tightening around his son, resting his chin on Nero’s head, “My son.” He said, frowning. “When we first brought him home, Lady, I told you that… I wanted to give him a good life because it’s what I owed him. But it’s more than that. He’s my _son_. I want to be a good father.”

“You _are_ a good father,” Lady whispered, “You love him.” 

“Yes,” Vergil nodded. _I do._ And he swore to protect what he loved: Nero, Lady… even his brother. Lady leaned over and brushed a kiss to the top of Nero’s head.

“Let’s put him in his bed. I wondered if you’d like to go out for drinks. I think we deserve a few moments to ourselves. If Dante is willing to listen for when the little guy wakes up.”

Vergil nodded once, “Help me lay him down, and then I am all yours.”


End file.
